Shiver
by razorbladesandbutterflyswings
Summary: After the Alkali lake incident, Rogue confronts a few truths and becomes more different than she ever could have imagined. She is forced to deal with new abilities, responsibilities and her feelings for one John Allerdyce. This is her journey. Xmovieverse
1. Part I

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-men. I am in no way affiliated with Marvel Comics or Fox or its movies. I'm just doing this because a plot bunny attacked me very late last night and forced me to write this.

A/N: This is a (short) one-shot for right now, a little speculation. I might continue, if I can come up with a good plot. If anyone would be interested in that, let me know in your reviews. Also, here's something of complete irrelevance; Christian Bale is the HOTTEST Batman…ever, and Cillian Murphy (who plays the Scarecrow in Batman begins) is also a five alarm hottie. They're both right up there with Hugh Jackman and Aaron Stanford. (drools over the hotness of Pyro) Enjoy!

* * *

Tongues of flame danced across her skin, but she felt no pain. There was only bliss. Hands skimmed her sides, light touches jolting her into blinding ecstasy. Lips brushed against her throat, blazing a burning trail to her own. Their lips met in a kiss that scorched her insides and as their tongues began to duel, she tasted smoke.

Arching, to touch skin to skin as her most fervent desires drove her to, she exhaled in a shuddering sigh. It was glorious. She found her mouth trapped once again, in a kind of kiss she had no memory of ever receiving before and the universe spiralled away. Her hands clutched solid, strong shoulders as she rode the waves of her pleasure. Quivering she pulled away, staring into the face of the one who had given her this miracle. She found herself staring at the lust-filled, dark eyes and half smile of John Allerdyce.

* * *

Rouge shot up in her bed, breathing like she'd just done an hour in the Danger Room with Logan. Her hands clutched at the blankets as her eyes closed, frustrated tears spilling down her pale cheeks. It wasn't right, her mind screamed. She had never had dreams like that about Bobby, but then again Bobby didn't have the kinds of memories John did. Or the burning desire to touch her, regardless of bodily harm. All gleaned from a simple touch of his ankle to quell the flames burning around the police that day at Bobby's. Every night since had become torture, filled with dreams of John; touching her, kissing her, loving her like the John in her mind whispered that he wanted to. Taking a few deep breaths, Rouge wiped the tears from her face. Feeling defeated, she lay back down to try and get a few more hours of sleep before the sun came up.


	2. Part II

Discalimer: See Part 1

A/N: Not that I really think anyone reads this, but here you go, part 2 of Shiver.

* * *

Rogue awoke, feeling grumpy and groggy as she often did when she dreamt of John. She scrubbed furiously at the tear stains on her face before gathering her towel and heading off to the bathroom. Thankfully it was empty.

Rogue pulled the curtain across and set the shower on hot, waiting for the room to steam up before stepping under the spray. She sighed as the near scalding water flowed over her skin. She'd felt so cold lately, even though it was spring and the days had been warm. Rogue had felt a chill even through her usual attire of scarves, coats and opera length gloves. Rogue had a momentary flashback to her dream, and could almost feel the fire dancing across her skin, chasing away the cold. Shaking those images out of her head, she went on with her daily cleansing routine.

* * *

Leaving the bathroom, feeling warm and refreshed, Rogue headed in the direction of Bobby's room. A feminine giggle stopped her short about seven feet from the door. Taking a deep breath, she squashed down her inner Logan, whose territorial instincts had reared their ugly head at the noise. Inhaling deeply again, she walked the final distance to the door and turned the knob, opening it just in time to witness Bobby in the throes of ecstasy with his hands buried in the deep, green, curling hair of Lorna Dane. "Oh mah gahd," Rogue rasped, her mouth forming a perfect 'O'.

Bobby had the good sense to look ashamed when his eyes finally opened and he began to breathe normally. Lorna threw her a vicious smirk as she turned and wiped a little something from the corner of her mouth. Rogue could feel the combined rage of herself, and all the people in her mind building as Lorna stood up and Bobby scrambled to get his pants on. Lorna was still smirking. Rogue levelled a glare her way before turning on her heel and striding out the door, attempting to quash the storm of rage building inside her.

Her inner Logan was goading her to beat the piss out of both Lorna and Bobby, and for once her inner Magneto agreed with him, telling her in his calm, accented voice that they needed to be punished. David had faded to a whisper, but she could clearly hear him telling her to rip Lorna's hair out. The John inside was silent, as he often was during the day, but Rogue could feel his molten rage swirling in the background. That was the most dangerous of all, because John's anger was like the fire he manipulated, quick to start and difficult to control. Rogue decided to head to the gym, where Logan had created a kind of dojo, to hit the punch bag and work off some steam. Hopefully, no one would be around and she could dissipate her anger in peace.


	3. Part III

Disclaimer: Seriously...who thinks I own this? Clearly I do not.

Three hours in the gym had quelled the anger burning inside of Rogue, and the hurt began to set in. Bobby had betrayed her in the most brutal way. He had gone to someone else for the sexual pleasure she could never give him. It was something he promised he would never do. How was she supposed to look at him every day and not feel this hurt, or worse keep one of the others from taking control and ripping him limb from limb?

Rogue sat down heavily on her bed. She looked around her room and took stock of the place that she had called home for the past few years. There were knick-knacks and posters and some teddy bears that Bobby had won her at a carnival but none of it really mattered. There was nothing tying her to this place anymore, not even Logan because sooner or later he'd leave too. There was no reason to stay.

She packed her things quietly, shoving clothes and gloves and some money she had hidden into a backpack. When she had emptied the dresser of the things she wanted, Rogue looked around to see if there was anything else she wanted. Something silver on the top of her desk caught her eye. Rogue smiled sadly when she moved some papers around to find the object. It was the Zippo she had gotten John for his birthday a few months before the Alkali Lake incident. He had liked it, but he hadn't used it often because he already had one. The Zippo had a matte silver finish and she'd had engraved to say 'Fire is life' in Latin.

Rogue's breath hitched as she remembered that last time John had used it. She and Bobby had finally gotten him to come and study with them. John had gotten fed up after about an hour and set Bobby's pencil on fire. Bobby had been angry but had quickly gotten even with John by freezing John's socks to the floor. They'd all gone to town to see a movie afterwards with a few of the other kids. Naturally they had each wanted to see different films, and Bobby ended up going with Kitty and Jubilee to see some comic book film while Rogue and John went to see a mindless slasher film. John and Rogue's movie let out earlier so they had gone for ice cream after. Rogue laughed the entire time because John's ice cream melted so quickly he ended up wearing most of it. It was a good night.

Rogue sighed and put on her coat. It was the middle of the day, so everyone would be out and about doing their own thing or spending time with friends. They wouldn't even notice she was leaving and if they did, they wouldn't know it was for good. She picked up her bag and shrugged it on. Pulling her hood up, she began her escape.


	4. Part IV

Ten hours later Rogue was on a bus headed towards New Orleans. She's made the decision to go there after staring at the bus schedule for twenty minutes. New Orleans was similar enough to Mississippi to feel like coming home, but different enough to be exciting. After all, the big easy was an exciting place.

Rogue looked out over the rapidly passing landscape and sighed; flicking John's Zippo open and closed. She could feel his presence swirling in the back of her mind, applauding her for leaving Xavier's school. Rogue looked around her at the passengers and noticed a small boy of about five looking at her. He had dark hair and dark eyes. She waved at him and smiled. Then she felt the world shift around her as one of John's memories pushed to the forefront of her consciousness.

It was Christmas and John was about the same age as the little boy on the bus. Everything was decorated and there were a lot of adults around him, singing loudly and drinking egg nog. John was happy, but fearful also. Some of the adults were angry because someone named Uncle Rory was in jail again. There was another boy, several years older than John. John was pleased because the boy, his cousin Alexander, had let him play with his comic collection. Alexander was walking towards him with a plate of cookies and tripped over the rug, shattering the plate and sending cookies flying everywhere. John grew frightened as his Uncle Tony started yelling and dragged Alexander up the stairs. When the came down twenty minutes later, Uncle Tony looked much calmer but Alexander was sporting a bleeding lip and an eye that was starting to bruise.

Rogue was dragged away from the memory by someone tapping on her shoulder. Shaking her head quickly, she turned and faced the person. He was a man, with shoulder length reddish hair, wearing sunglasses and a trench coat. "Bonsoir ma cherie. Now you a pretty girl, so you be understandin' da concept of beauty sleep non? Remy be needin' his, so stop clicking dat thin' s'il vous plait," he, apparently Remy, said.

Rogue sighed and levelled him with glare. She clicked John's lighter shut and slipped it into her coat pocket. "There are yah happy now? Next time yah want something, just ask. Don't touch. Ah don't lahke to be touched," she replied, dismissing him with a wave. He wandered off muttering to himself about feisty femmes making his life difficult.

Rogue rolled her eyes. Who did that guy think he was fooling anyways, with that trench coat and cheesy accent? Talking in the third person was also not a turn on. He was probably some Cajun swamp rat on his way back home to the bayou. Yawning deeply, Rouge did agree he had a point about sleep. She was tired. Her day had been long. She'd been cheated on, run away from home and had to figure out a way to explain her actions to Logan without him going ballistic and doing something drastic, like killing Bobby or driving down to New Orleans and dragging her back to the mansion. There was also the problem of Professor Xavier. He could see her wherever she went. What was to stop him from sending a team to take her back regardless of Logan?

She sighed. It was too much to think about right now, and she was tired. So she closed her eyes and, after a few minutes wriggling in her seat to get comfortable, fell asleep.

In her dreams she danced with John while the school blazed around them.


	5. Part V

Disclaimer: Yeah I don't own X-Men, or BtVS. I'm not even going to imagine that I do, because hey let's face it lawyers would foam at the mouth if I even entertained that delusional notion.

A/N: Thank you all so much for your kind reviews.I don't know if I mentioned this before, but this is a slight crossover between Buffy and the X-movieverse. If that doesn't do it for you, I'm sorry. Give it a chance anyway. So there are some slight spoilers for the Buffy series finale "Chosen" in this chapter and probably the next few. Without further ado, here's the new chapter of Shiver...or as I like to call it "How Rogue gets her superstrength in the X-movieverse without absorbing Ms. Marvel"

* * *

Life in New Orleans was much more difficult than Rogue had anticipated. There were very few jobs that wouldn't question her choice of attire and lodging turned out to be more expensive that she'd hoped. After a month in the city she'd finally found work at a local music store as a cashier, and decided that she wasn't above squatting in order to stay shielded from the elements. Rogue was just glad the building she'd been staying in had running water in its shabby bathroom. She'd had to adopt a Goth look to make the gloves passable at work, but it didn't really bother her. It wasn't quite the life she'd imagined running away from Xavier's school, but at least memories of John and Bobby didn't haunt her at every turn.

Rogue's routine was fairly simple. Get up, throw on one of her three outfits, apply her Goth make-up, work, eat a PB & J sandwich, go to sleep, rinse and repeat. Every other day she showered at the local Y and on Sundays she went to the soup kitchen for something more substantial than peanut butter and jelly. Once in a while she called Logan from a pay phone to assure him she was okay, but those instances were few and far between. Rogue rarely deviated from this pattern.

That was why it was so surprising when she found herself drawn to wandering through one of the cities many cemeteries on a Wednesday evening three months after her move to New Orleans. The night before she'd been woken up by the strangest dream, where she was in a huge cave surrounded by monsters. Rogue had been jolted awake when a girl with red hair had thrown her a rather nasty looking axe. She'd felt strange and off kilter all day, so she'd called in sick for the first time. Rogue had spent the day walking around the city, trying to get a handle on the way her mutation had evolved seemingly overnight. Her senses were sharper and, if the way her glass had cracked under her touch at the diner where she'd splurged for lunch was any indication, she'd grown exponentially stronger. Neither of those things really explained her sudden urge to traipse around on hallowed ground as she was currently doing.

* * *

Rogue rubbed the back of her neck what seemed like the ten millionth time since she'd entered the graveyard. She couldn't shake the feeling that someone was following her. Hearing a twig crack behind her, she spun around quickly only to find that no one was there. "Ah'm going crazy," she said to herself. 

A chuckle from behind her made her jump nearly out of her skin. She spun sharply and came face to face with a pale, dark haired man. "I highly doubt that cherie. Now tell me what a pretty girl like you is doing in a cemetery so late at night, hmm?" he asked.

The hairs on the back of Rogue's neck stood up in alarm. There was something that just was not right about this man. Her stomach clenched so hard she could barely keep from doubling over. She frowned at the man. "Can't a girl just take walk in this town?"

Rogue backed up a few paces as the man edged towards her. She shivered as he sent her a cold smile and walked closer to her. Rogue bumped into something hard and a look over her shoulder confirmed that she had backed into one of New Orleans's above ground crypts. A choked scream burst from Rogue as the man reached out to touch her and her stomach clenched so hard she could barely see. Gathering her composure, she straightened up and looked him in the eye. "Ah wouldn't do that if ah were you."

The man's smile didn't fade. "Poor cherie doesn't like to be touched? That's a pity."

Rogue's heart almost stopped when he laid a hand on her neck. She waited for the pull, but nothing came. Her confusion must have shown on her face because the man chuckled. "What did you expect petite?" he asked as his grip tightened on her neck.

Rogue began to panic as her air supply was cut off. Moonlight streamed down onto her attacker's face and she prayed for air enough to scream as his face shifted into an ugly mask of ripples and his eyes glowed a haunting yellow. As he leaned into her neck she noticed something. His hand was cold. Her new senses kicked in as she realized that this man had no body heat. A sharp pain in her neck catapulted her into action.

Rogue clumsily kicked out with her left foot and caught the man in his ankle. He pulled his head away from her neck and swore. Rogue took this moment to grab the wrist of the hand holding her neck and squeezed, hoping it would crack like the glass in the diner. She smiled as she was rewarded with the sound of shattering bones. Her attacker swore again and relinquished his grip, letting Rogue topple to the ground and clutched his broken wrist to him. "You'll pay for that petite," he growled.

Rogue picked herself up off the ground and took off running. She was running faster than she'd ever thought possible, but she could hear the man on the verge of catching her as she took a sharp right turn between the crypts. The footsteps stopped behind her after a ways and she stopped to catch her breath under an old willow tree at the border of the cemetery. Rogue screamed as a heavy weight crashed into her. "I told you that you'd pay cherie," the man growled in her ear as he forced her to the ground. Adrenaline pumping hard through her veins, Rogue brought her head back sharply, colliding with the man's face. She used the training Logan had given her to throw the man off her. Without waiting for him to move away, Rogue brought her knee into his ribcage. As he was pushed away by the force of her blow, she jumped up of the ground.

Rouge grabbed hold of a branch of the tree, shocked for a moment at how easily it came off the tree into her hands and swung out with it. She connected with the man's chest and watched in horror as his demonic face contorted in pain and he exploded into a cloud of dust.

Rouge stood stunned with the branch in her hands as the dust fell to the ground, sparkling in the moonlight.

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Hope you liked it. Review? Pwetty pweese? Also...check out my other stories? 


	6. Part VI

Disclaimer: It would be sheer foolishness to say I own this...cuz I don't. So there. I do own a pretty spiff Stitch bobble-head though.

A/N: Well ladies and gents ou there in readerdom, you demanded and I supplied. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed the story so far. As of this moment I'm up to 39 reviews and I'm very grateful for each and every one. Many of you have been asking about John and when he'll show up. I regret to inform y'all that for the most part, John will only be in Rogue's mind. John physically probably won't even be in the story until the last chapter, but Rogue's feelings for him will play a major role in this story. This is Rogue's story. John's story will come at a later date (a fic that I've been calling 'X-Factored') and will also be an X-movieverse/BtVS crossover. Anyways, please don't stop reading just because he won't be here! There's plenty to enjoy...like Remy...heh. Many of you may be offended by hints of Romy, but they will unfortunately play a role. Now, after that rather lengthy author's note, here is the brand spankin' newest chapter of 'Shiver' which I like to call..."Enter the Scoob".

* * *

Rogue dropped the branch and did the only thing that came to mind; she ran. She ran until her legs turned to rubber, but the Wolverine inside her reared his head and pushed her to keep running. His essence in the back of her mind urged her onward so that she would get as far away from the danger in the graveyard as possible. Rogue ran until she finally collapsed.

Wolverine, satisfied that she was out of danger, receded to the back of her mind, assuring her she was strong and that she was safe. Rogue began to sob, though her eyes were dry. It was as if the world had suddenly ceased to make rational sense. Her power was gone, and she knew in her mind that she should be dancing for joy that her poison skin had been replaced with freakish strength but she felt like something vital to her very being was missing. Rogue's sobs gradually ceased and she lay on the ground for a time.

Breathing deeply, Rogue pushed herself up into a sitting position. Lost in her thoughts and her efforts to pull herself together she almost jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Panicking, Rogue grabbed it and twisted the attached arm into one of the more effective holds that Logan had taught her. The owner of the hand shouted and cried "Oncle, Oncle! Remy din' mean no harm!"

Rogue released him and backed away a few steps, preparing to bolt in necessary. She couldn't help but roll her eyes as her attacker stepped into the moonlight. Shoulder length reddish hair, sunglasses and a trench coat. Of all the people in all the world, the joker from the bus just happened to be the one to come across her on what was swiftly ranking among the weirdest days of her life.

She sent a hateful look to the heavens when she caught sight of the smile on his face. "Well cherie, seems you really don' like to be touched,' he said with a low chuckle.

Rogue placed her hand on her hip and stared him down, trying to quell the rage building inside her. A good portion of it was hers, but John's slow burn was intermingled with it. His residual anger was always an issue when her temper got riled, but Rogue just kept breathing in and out pushing John's anger back into the space in her mind he occupied. Sleep was definitely going to be out of the question tonight. Levelling a glare at Remy, she turned and started walking away, looking for familiar landmarks. She tried to ignore the sound of footsteps falling in with her own, but after two blocks she spun on her heel and shouted "What is your damage!"

Remy seemed startled for only a moment, and then his cocky exterior fell back into place. He shrugged his shoulders and looked lazily at her. "Remy does no' thin' it safe for a femme like you to walk home alone. Also, Remy wishes to know the name of a feisty chere such as yo'self," he replied.

Rogue sighed and rolled her eyes. "Mah name is Rogue," she stated, holding out her hand for him to shake.

Remy grinned madly. "Dee nom is fitting chere," he said as he shook her hand. The smile disappeared from his face after a moment and Rogue barely registered the pull as her mind was flooded with thoughts and memories. Panicking, she ripped her hand away from Remy's and caught him as he fell forward. It was then that she noticed the glove on the hand she had offered was torn. Dragging Remy to the ground with her as her knees collapsed, Rogue began rocking back and forth trying to banish memories of thieves, assassins, the swamp and a woman named Belladonna from her mind.

Her stomach began to cramp up again, and Rogue knew she had to get off of the street. Pulling herself and the unconscious Remy up from the ground, she dragged him into the nearest lighted doorway she could find.

The music of the bar thumped away as all the patrons stopped and stared at Rogue and Remy. Rogue was almost brought to her knees by the pain in her stomach as many of the patrons stood up and made their way towards her. She bit back a scream as their faces morphed into the same horrid mask as the man in the graveyard. Backing towards the door, she felt Remy begin to awaken. "Ah'm sorry," she stammered, "seemed lahke mah friend here needed a restroom but ah think he's fahne now. We'll just be goin'."

One of the men stepped forward and licked his lips. Rogue felt hatred stir inside her as he smiled and showed his teeth. He chuckled a little and then growled out the words that would change Rogue's life forever. "I don't think you're going anywhere Slayer."

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Clickity click goes the blue button!


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